Space Squids from Outer Space
by Alexeij
Summary: !AU! A different humanity ventures through the Charon Relay in the aftermath of Event Zero, seeking its place in the vast galaxy and reshaping itself anew. Different Timeline, Different First Contact Scenario, Different Cerberus, my own take on the ME Universe. Credits to LogicalPremise for inspiration.
1. Chapter 1

**Milky Way/ Sol Cluster.**

 **December 23rd, 2146. 70 years since Event Zero.**

Gilgamesh Station orbited around the dead planet like a slumbering giant.

The oldest battle station in Concordat space, the decades hadn't robbed the monolith of its imposing strength. Much like the Dome on Callisto, where the Founders assembled to sign the Concordat Chart in the aftermath of Event Zero, Gilgamesh Station had engraved its name in the annals of history.

Unlike the Dome however, now abandoned by the Senate to historical tourism and the Farseeing Church for the sprawling modernity of Arcturus Station, or the Sol Archologies themselves, locked in fiery competition with their Exodus counterparts and the treacherous Walkure, Gilgamesh Station still maintained its role and function unrivaled beyond the inspiring symbolism burned in the people's imagination. Gagarin Station and Arcturus might be of newer make, but none could hold a candle to the sheer firepower Gilgamesh packed.

Rows of blue and gray ships were marooned on its external dockyard rings, sleek frigates and the elongated bulk of battlecruisers clouded by squadrons of agile fighters flying in and out of the lower hangars bays. Ready to set out to protect the Concordat to the last man at a moment's notice should the need arise, each and every hull vaunted the _SteelWatch_ acronym in bold characters, the best and most loyal in the Concordat Corps.

Gilgamesh Station remained the SteelWatch's headquarters ever since the station's completion in 2075. With the passing of the decades, it had expanded accordingly and its structure overhauled and upgraded as the Concordat grew within and beyond the Sol Cluster.

Within its confines, however, where space was a scarce commodity, there was one room that rarely had been opened in over seventy years. Here, the Concordat Board reunited in times of dire need to answer to those events that held the potential to disrupt or elevate the Concordat in its entirety. Above the Senate's politicking and the Corporate Court's alliances, the Board's word was the Concordat's.

Here, the Board listened as Seeker Hannibal Grissom related the discovery of the Mars Archives. Here, the Manswell Betrayal had been revealed when Arbiter Lazar struck down President Kristoff Manswell and the first nail was riveted into that treacherous dynasty's coffin.

Now, the large mahogany double doors had once more opened and then closed behind the Board members, the Five Chains clasped from end to end while the Sixth remained broken and unrepaired. SteelWatch Zero Division soldiers in red and gray heavy Carapax armor and a team of CID Agents guarded and monitored every known access, tasked with keeping the meeting undisturbed and assuring the safety of the figures beyond the doors. Sophisticate cyber-security was layered upon the more traditional physical measures, the doors and scenery window were protected with kinetic barriers and the whole station remained on lockdown for the entirety of the meeting.

Beyond the doors, a vast, rectangular shaped room widened, sparingly furnished despite its importance. A thick, wool carpet from Benning's archology farms covered the pavement from end to end, muffling the steps of combat boots and the rhythmic, lazy tapping of leather designer shoes.

On the far wall opposite to the door, the Founders' portraits met the newcomer with their leveling gazes, staring ahead from under a magnified Concordat symbol, a smooth, silvery C contained within a blackened globe and five stars cradling the Concordat Motto in their breast.

Light bathed the room through a scenery window spanning the entirety of one of the longer walls, though as the station progressed with its rotation the Sun slowly disappeared beyond the armaglass' edge, leaving the cold haptic lights on the ceiling to cast shadows in the room.

A woman in a blue leather Admiral uniform, hands clasped behind her back, stared out of the window, her gray eyes intent on the dead planet below. Her pauldrons showed the tags of a Fleet Admiral and a large collection of medals blazed on her chest with every breath. A particularly large star with a white globe within hung from her neck by a red, silk ribbon and rested on the large, red sash crossing diagonally from her right shoulder to her left hip.

Her head was bare, chestnut brown hair streaked with silver tied in a regulation bun. She stood ramrod straight by the window for a long time, eyes wandering into the hypnotic blackness of space when the planet slipped to the side, unheeding to the light console tapping behind her and the deep gaze boring into her back.

The double doors opened once more. A tall, almost lanky man strode inside, lifting the Admiral uniform hat from his head. He wore the same leather blue uniform as the woman, minus sash, ribbon and quite a deal of medals; the red lines bisecting his Admiral tags indicated his retirement from Navy duty despite only a few lines of gray streaking his temples. In his other hand, he carried a leather-bound metal case, fingers clenched around the handle.

Four pairs of eyes turned and settled on him as the man surpassed the two towering, helmeted forms of the Judges Vigilantes standing watch on either side of the door, Arch Projectors clasped in their hands. A green light switched on for a few moments in the Judges' helmet HUD, conveying the outside security's all-clear for the newcomer. They let him pass, but the armor-encased fingers didn't budge an inch from the trigger of their weapons.

The man quickly took in the room and its occupants then straightened sharply and saluted the woman by the window. She commanded him to rest with a curt nod as she rejoined the three men sitting at the table.

"It seems everyone is finally here," prompted the man sitting at the opposite side of the table in a lift chair, switching off his multi-tasking console and slipping it into a pocket of his cream dyed tailor suit. His frame wasn't large or imposing, but despite the obvious signs of age and his condition, his face still projected a quiet aura of strength and confidence. He leaned forward and picked a cigar from an ebony box on the table, but didn't light it.

"Admiral Janvier, everyone in this room would be ecstatic to know why you insisted the Fleet Marshal summoned this meeting."

One of the other two men at the table, shorter and softer in the face and belly, nodded, smoothing a slight crumple on his pant leg below the table.

The other simply fixed the younger Admiral with a deep, scrutinizing gaze from atop a massive pair of power-armor encased shoulders, dead eyes two steel azure points in a face as dark as space that sought to rip off the Admiral's flesh and see what might hide underneath. Janvier was forced to draw from his taxed reserves to avoid recoiling from the intensity of the colossus' gaze. His stomach's somersaults went unheeded and he soldiered on.

"I assure you, gentlemen, ma'am, the need for secrecy and haste will be justified in but a moment. I couldn't possibly present this before the Committee." Admiral Janvier briskly approached the table and with one fluid motion placed the case on the wood surface. He swept an ID before the optical sensor near the handle, then knelt to let another scan recognize both of his retinas and finally tapped a long string of alphanumerical characters into a keypad.

The Admiral rose on his feet as the mag-locks disengaged and the case hissed open, the top concealing its contents to the small audience. Four identical folders appeared in the Admiral's hands, each stamped with [RESERVED] on the front in black ink and each closed by a black string.

Admiral Janvier circled around the table, respectfully setting one folder in front of each of the meeting participants, and then returned to the case. The soft man fidgeted with one corner of the folder's cover but didn't unlatch the string. Everyone else, after quick glances at the folder's cover, trained their eyes back at the Admiral and waited.

He produced one last object, an OSD disk he quickly inserted into its allotment in the large holo-projector in the center of the table.

The projector hummed and beeped; a three-dimensional, detailed map of the entirety of known Concordat space materialized in a flash. Yellow dots labeled the many colonies, minute lines of script assigning each denomination and coordinates. At the edges of the map, the furthest away from the Sol Cluster, a few colonies were marked with Exodus purple or Walkure orange instead of Concordat yellow. Lines of warm blue traveled the emptiness between the systems, a fine web crisscrossing the map indicating the Relay Network's paths explored and the Relays opened so far.

The Admiral tapped a few commands on the console and the map zoomed on a sector in the 'north-east' of Concordat explored space, close to the purple dots. He cleared his throat and took a small breath, deeply aware of the magnitude of the gazes resting on him, and whose gazes those were.

"This is the Shadow Sea Cluster. A year and a half ago we opened the Relay that led the Seekers to this system, Balor." Another tap, another click, another zoom. "Rear-Admiral Osman preliminary report on the System is included in the folder before you. In short, the system consisted of a large gas giant and a vast asteroid belt rich of bauxite, iron and titanium. A secondary, one-way Relay leads back to the Shanxi system, and two more systems, Aysur and Solveig, are within a four-years FLT, with two more, Talava and Yakava, further off and currently unexplored."

A flap of papers and the soft man opened his folder, eyes perusing the first page. "Shortly after the first reports came in the Senate and the Colonial Committee decreed a Class II Archology was established on this moon, Caleston." Tap, click, zoom. "It orbits around the system gas giant, Cernunnos, and despite its volcanic nature, a geological scan highlighted vast pockets of eezo in the immediate underground, likely originated from meteor strikes. Again, everything is in the folder."

Nobody interrupted him, but the Fleet Marshal raised one eyebrow at him, hard green eyes telling the time for wasted words was over.

Concordat Intelligence Department's Commander Admiral Bernard Janvier nodded at his superior and continued.

"As you know, Caleston is currently one of our forward colonies in that region of space, alongside Shanxi and the Exodus Horizon. It also remains the only colony in the Balor system beside several mineral bases in the asteroid belt and an Ashland-Eldfell H3 extraction and processing station in orbit around the gas giant.

In the last month, as per the Colonial Committee decree, the Fourth Seeker Flotilla has started exploring the Aysur and Solveig systems, supported by Second Fleet's Fourth Battlegroup stationed at Caleston should the Flotilla incur in hostilities from Walkure.

What they found, well... it went beyond our expectations"

Tap, click. The map blurred as the zoom shifted from Balor to the Solveig system. The man in the eezo-lift chair glanced momentarily at the Fleet Marshal, his expression schooled in mild curiosity, but the woman didn't seem to notice. Then he wrapped his thin lips around the cigar's bottom and a flame flickered to life. Inhaling, he puffed at the cigar appreciatively, then waved for Admiral Janvier to continue.

"The Solveig System appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary. No relay and only faint eezo readings. One gas giant of 1.3 Jupiter mass and a small, desert planet closer to the star. An asteroid belt of little significance around the desert planet codenamed Surtur.

The Flotilla sent out a number of probes to both planets, their moons and to the system's edges. As it turned out, the asteroid belt had quite a few hidden secrets, and so did Surtur."

Tap, tap, click, zoom. The Solveig System sped forward and the participants found themselves looking at a small planet, Surtur, and at its moon, labeled _Sirtara_. All around the planet, small dots clouded the hologram, many having stabilized in a ring disposition perpendicular to the planet's axis, asteroid masses frozen in time by the projection.

The Admiral inhaled and rested both hands on the table, palms down. Despite the pleasant coolness in the room, a rivulet of sweat rolled down his temple.

"We have proof, substantial proof, that we aren't alone in the galaxy anymore."

A single moment of silence spanned for what seemed an eternity, then the Admiral's words sunk in.

The man in the lift-chair stopped his puffing and after a split-moment of stillness lowered his cigar into an ashtray, letting the pricey tobacco burn. A small curl at the angle of his lips, gone before anyone but the Admiral could spot it, was the only nick in the schooled stillness of his face.

The Fleet Master's shoulders drooped a bit, like a burden suddenly lifted, and she leaned into the backrest as she unobtrusively looked around, hands folded on her lap.

The dark colossus didn't even flinch, an imperceptible narrowing of the eyes and the regular heaving of his chest the only signs he was still alive. The Judges Vigilantes at the door, full helmets concealing their features, could have been carved out of stone and deaf for all the reaction the revelation elicited in them.

"What... where is this proof you cite? Show us, Admiral." the soft man drawled, leaning heavily on the table with his elbows.

"Of course, Chairman." Tap, click. The spaceside view of Surtur and its moon vanished. The next projection appeared to be taken from somewhere within the asteroid belt, the resolution and accuracy of the image probably belonging to a probe.

"This was taken forty-two hours ago. The probes' initial gathered data are comprised in the folder as well. The first thorough scans suggest that the asteroid field consists of debris from a second moon that used to orbit Surtur. And these..."

Tap, click, zoom. "These are the remains of a hull."

Silence. Admiral Janvier exhaled and cast a glance to the four eerily silent figures at the table. The Chairman looked insistently at the older man in the lift chair, trying to attract his attention with no measure of success.

Said man turned to the Fleet Marshall instead, sizing her up with cold blue eyes. "It appears you have known of this for quite some time already, Marshall Drescher. I take you have already requested Grissom's assistance from the Archives?"

"I sent for him as soon as the CID delivered these to my office, President." Drescher tilted her head to the rendered picture on display, her voice unperturbed, though the sudden stiffness in her shoulder spoke volumes. "Team Seven under Doctor Banes arrived on site twenty hours ago and from an initial examination theorized that, while the wreckage is positive to eezo, it presents structural patterns comparable to our own.

Doctor Banes' best hypothesis so far is that those ships derive from processes of tech reversal similar to ours. In any case, that hull didn't belong to a Prothean ship. Their full report -"

"- is in the folder. Very well." The President peeled his eyes off the woman and riveted them back to the Admiral. "Now, Admiral Janvier, please tell me why you didn't just forward the folder to my office. I'd hate to have come all this way from Terra Nova to simply have some papers explained to me."

The Admiral suppressed a wince and nodded, his fingers dancing on the projector controls. Another image, this one apparently taken on Surtur's scorched surface, captured a maze of shattered crafts and weathered debris poking out of the broken ground.

"The Fourth Seeker Flotilla has so far localized three more crash sites beyond this one. A preliminary examination led the Seeker teams first and the Archives' later to believe that ships of different make clashed around Surfur. C-14 data analysis isn't accurate in cases like these, but our best guess based on the terrain condition and the radiation levels so far places the battle roughly around one hundred years ago. With more time the survey teams will narrow the field some more."

"We also believe that the moon has shattered as a result of this battle." This time, the colossus' brow broke into a small frown. "This, whether the result of an entire fleet orbital bombardment, the work of a single ship or a groundside device, places their ship weapon technology ahead of ours. Only the prolonged fire of Gilgamesh's cannons or the combined Steelwatch Fleet could achieve such a feat."

"You spoke of _them,_ " interjected the Chairman, lips screwed in a disgusted grimace. "Has any sign been found of who, or _what_ , manned these ships? A medical examination on whatever bodies you retrieved would at least reveal what we are dealing with, and if we'll be dealing with anything in the first place."

"No signs of any surface structure has resulted to the scans, Chairman, and while we cannot exclude the presence of underground bunkers or even entire facilities, it is highly unlikely they battled themselves to extinction. Clear signs of civilization have remained even in the aftermath of Event Zero, the scans couldn't have missed whole cities, not even underground ones."

He took a steadying breath. "And yes, the Seekers found remains of the species we think took part in this battle." The Chairman inhaled reflexively and suppressed a cough as he breathed in some of the cigar's smoke, but before he could retort or unleash a barrage of questions, the President waved a hand to silence him.

"Trevor, hush. I reckon the Admiral wishes to tell us more before revealing this particular piece." His tone was lenient, like a father scolding a child, but his eyes fixed the projector like a bird of prey's. "Please, continue."

"Thank you, President. As I was saying, we think the moon was destroyed as a result of this battle. Unfortunately for us, this isn't the worse of the destruction that they can unleash."

Tap, click, zoom. An uneasy silence fell on the room again. The projection changed, this time to a section of empty space that, at a second look, wasn't just as empty.

"That -"

"Yes," Admiral Janvier confirmed the wordless question. "Rear-Admiral Osman sent a probe modified for specific groundside geological surveys to the same coordinates this one came from." Tap, click. The new projection was much like the previous one, only now pieces of wreckage that spanned tens of kilometers glowed the dark blue of eezo.

"A Relay," murmured the Chairman.

"What remains of it, more likely," corrected the President. Nobody spoke as the colossus handed the President back his cigar, now consumed by half, and he took a slow, long puff the burned the tobacco some more. A small smoke cloud slithered out of the corner of his lips.

"Do we know what packed enough firepower to wreck a Relay of all things?"

The Admiral looked defeated but met the President's scrutiny stalwartly." Not yet. We have never tested a Relay's resilience against direct fire before, but the Network has been around since even before the Protheans themselves, and we still can't replicate what they are made of.

We'll try with what remains of this one, but... the truth, President, is that were a force of comparable size and technology jump above one of our forward colonies, we'd be hardly put to drive them back even with all of our Fleets combined, unless we fielded the _Leviathan._ And this technology, for _them_ , dates at least century back."

Janvier leaned forward, splaying his palms on the table. "I insisted with the Marshall to summon a Board emergency meeting because what awaits beyond our borders might threaten our existence as a species in ways that make the Betrayal pale in comparison, and another Event Zero not a distant prospect anymore. We are not ready President, not if Humanity wants to have a say in its future."

The President studied the CID Commander, flushed and grim-looking, for a long moment, then turned to face to each of the figures sitting at the table in turn.

Fleet Marshall Kastanie Drescher was the first to give her assent, nothing more than another curt nod. Then she produced a datapad from a pocket of her officer uniform and placed it before her.

"A list of what forces we can spare to guard the frontier without Walkure getting too bold," she stated, voice clipped. "The forward Colonies will need to be heavily fortified, and new Taurus Class battlestations built in orbit to guard the Relays. Above all else, we need Grissom's people to work around the clock and make the VISION reveal more of its information. Heed the man's requests for more competent personnel and resources.

I've also compiled a list of the Generals suitable for the tasks lying ahead -"

"You give for granted that the Senate will go along with this unconditionally!" protested the Chairman, shifting in his seat to confront the Fleet Marshall and earning a murderous glare that threatened to send him running. He soldiered through, "To reveal the ascertained presence of xenos would seed panic and turmoil we don't need. Without alerting the public opinion of the xenos' existence, however, these measures will be taken as directed to rekindle the hostilities with the Exodus Colonies and the Epworth administration has built much of its consensus and base in finding common ground through diplomacy while reducing the number of active military forces."

The Chairman shook his head, evaluating numbers and costs only he could see, then shook his head some more. "This won't sit well with them. You will find more opposition to these belligerent initiatives of yours than you presume."

"Then the Epworth administration will have to go, Trevor," the President stated evenly from the Chairman's right. Said Chairman was struck speechless for a moment, then murmured some hurried words of approval and settled back into his seat, nose buried in the open folder before him

"Inquisitor?" Everyone now waited for the colossus to express his vote. Eyes different shades of blue locked together and then the Inquisitor nodded his large, bald head once. Not a sound escaped his lips.

"Then we all agree." The President, pleased, discarded the cigar butt into the ashtray and pointed a finger at the CID chief.

"Admiral, have a Chapter arrange for Prime Minister Epworth's political demise and removal from the public scene. Not by violence, we don't want a martyr for the pacifists to rally around." The President took one last puff, then squashed the consumed butt of the cigar into the ashtray. "It would appear the time for honeyed words is over."

"Now, what are we dealing with?"

Tap. Click. Zoom.

* * *

 **Systems Concordat** : _The First Colonization Initiative in the 2050s wasn't pioneered by the Old World Superpowers, rather by Megacorps banding together in loose affiliation to find a solution to the rapidly depleting resources of the Earth and, of course, profit greatly from the monopoly. Foremost in promoting the Initiative was its founder and major shareholder, Adrian Huerta, CEO of the Huerta Foundation, who gathered the support of five more of the wealthiest Megacorps on the Planet. Despite a haltingly start, the Initiative proved to be a massive success, with millions of colonists hand-picked by the future Founders to work and populate the extra-world Colonies on the Moon, Mars and the asteroid belt as well as Gilgamesh Station. As years turned to decades and the tensions on the planet grew in magnitude and scope, the Founders eventually signed the First Concordat Chart, declaring their independence from the Earth powers and nationalities just months before Event Zero. Seventy years later and after the discovery of the Mars Archives, the Concordat vaunts colonies on over fifteen garden worlds, plus hundreds of extractions bases on asteroids and moons. From a population in the low millions in the aftermath of Event Zero, the Concordat rules over the six hundred million mark, thanks in no small part to support policies for families but especially to Project HERITAGE, made possible by the Seekers who braved and died on Earth during Operation Primordial._

 **Walkure and the Manswell Betrayal** : _Victor Manswell was Adrian Huerta's greatest supporter and closest confidante, a pillar of the Initiative and later in the Formation of the Concordat. His son Kristoff, however, was a man of different mettle: ambitious, ruthless and bold, in 2097 he tried to seize control of the Concordat in a wide-ranging plot that involved high ranks of the newly formed Concordat Fleet, the Senate and the Corporate Court. He'd have succeeded, if the Inquisitor hadn't publicly unmasked him as the Tribunal, in the largest operation ever since, proceeded to purge all the levels of the Concordat of his corruption. Alas, it was for naught. Even as the Tribunal executed most of the Manswell families, several fringe members of the plot managed to abscond to remote colonies the Concordat had no knowledge of, making away with large gene banks and personnel from HERITAGE. The new faction became soon known as Walkure and has been a thorn in the Concordat side for decades, from sabotage to assassination to full out offensives on the Concordat borders, always retreating beyond the Concordat's grasp._

 **Exodus Colonies** : _Following the Manswell betrayal and the Founders complete relinquish on power to the other governing bodies, large swathes of the public opinion lost faith in the Concordat, while more still remained terrified of the Tribunal's brutality. In 2099, a large independent civilian expeditionary force under the charismatic leader and Senator Rogen Loyola publicly rescinded from the Concordat Chart and founded a colony on Horizon, a Garden Planet at the edges of Concordat Space tagged for early forays. Still weakened by the Betrayal and Walkure's emergence, the Concordat was unable to stop the expedition with force. Ever since, an uneasy truce has been established between the Concordat and the slowly growing Exodus Colonies, with attempted emigration suppressed harshly by the Judges, while diplomatic efforts vary in effort and success with every different government._

 **Seekers** : _The speartip of the Concordat's colonization effort, the Seeker are the branch of Concordat military tasked with charting unknown regions of space, exploring planets and possibly initiate First Contact protocols. It was the Seekers who unearthed the Mars Archives and who discovered the Charon Relay inside Pluto's moon. It was also the Seekers who manned the first expedition through the relay. After Walkure's emergence, the Seekers have seen a progressive militarization, as they often are some of the splinter faction's favorite targets. The Seeker's HQ are situated on Mars and as such, they also work in close contact with the Sentinels._

 **Concordat Government** : _The Concordat Senate, situated on Arcturus Station, sits three representatives from each full Colony, seven from the Concordat Capital of Terra Nova and one from each of the Founders' families. It decides on matters of law, military, and trade, though it cannot rectify the core precepts of the Concordat Chart without a full vote and the unilateral vote of all Founder Representatives. The Corporate Court sits nine representatives picked at random from the Court's participant corporations, shifting every three years and regulating matters of trade, working closely with the Senate. Finally, the Tribunal makes up the juridical branch of the Concordat: its judges operate in Circles from Zero to the Third, each led by an Inquisitor and each of whom polices, with force if necessary, all levels of Concordat society: from Zero to Third, the Circles policy the CID, the Concordat Corps and Fleet, the Senate and Corporate Court, and finally the general population of Terra Nova and the Colonies. The Tribunal is led by the Arbiter, who reports directly to the Concordat Board for matters of critical safety or otherwise interacts with the Senate._

 **Judges** : _The elite combat arm of the Tribunal, the Judges are conditioned from birth to uphold the tenets of the Chart, so much that any form of disobedience is nigh impossible for them. While most Judges come from the tanks and communal raising of HERITAGE, many are taken from the ranks of war orphans. Judges are augmented both genetically, cybernetically, and are provided the best of training through hypnosis and grueling regimes on MINOS Station. A fair number of them, especially the most recent generations, are also fairly competent biotics. When joining in battle, Judges often command small detachments of Tribunal soldiers. Last but not least, every ship in the Concordat Fleet, after Walkure's emergence, includes a Judge in its crew, to vigil over the crew's loyalty and prevent defection and any crossing of the Concordat Chart._ _So strong their conditioning and adherence to the chart, the Founders unanimously voted for an alteration restricting the Judges' range of operation to Concordat space; otherwise, the Judges would have butchered Loyola's colonists to the last man, woman, and child._

 **CID** : _The Concordat Intelligence Department was formed in the wake of Walkure's emergence to counter the terrorist's threat and any other treat that may_ _strike the Concordat from within and outside its borders. Its agents are trained in a number of specializations, from counter-intelligence to data-analysis to even assassination, and organized in Chapters, sub-divisions all answering to the CID Commander and his aides._

 **Concordat Board** : _Its authority superior even to the three branches of the Concordat's government, the Board is called upon only in dire times that threaten the Concordat's existence as a whole. The summon can be submitted only by one of the sitting members with the support of a second, but the decisions taken behind the closed doors of Gilgamesh Station can supersede even the Chart if the times call for such actions. The Board sitting members are as follows: the Grand Marshal of the Fleet, the Arbiter, the Commander of the CID, the Senate's Chairman and the Concordat President, the latter elected for a seven years term by the Senate and whose position is mostly that of a mediator. The actual President is Tobias Huerta, the elderly second son of Adrian Huerta, who's currently serving his third term._

 **Event Zero** : _The reason behind the apocalyptic event known as Event Zero, if one actually exists, remains unknown to this day. What is known are the facts and the succession of the events that obliterated all life on Earth in less than two months, turning it into a dry rock. On October 27, 2076, five months after the signing of the First Concordat Chart and a mere thirteen days after the first iteration of Gilgamesh Station was ultimate, the entire nuclear arsenal stashed on Earth took flight in the span of an hour. As earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanos ravaged the globe in the early aftermath of the nuclear onslaught, Von Neumann nano-devices started to plague all major continents, cannibalizing every form of organic matter in sight and replicating faster than the few remaining forces on the planet could even hope to contain. The Concordat attempted to send help and several rescue ships were lost in re-entry in the rad-storms and titanic cyclones the nuclear detonations had unleashed. Ultimately, only a few thousand refugees of over ten billion managed to flee off-planet, most of them rich elites who possessed private vessels, or the few lucky souls who happened to be on-site of the few Concordat ships that managed to land._

 **The Leviathan** : _An ancient Prothean Heavy Cruiser unearthed in pristine conditions underneath the Archives, it's the flagship of the Concordat SteelWatch._

* * *

 _Alexeij here,_

 _So, first chapter out. I'm testing the waters here, trying to gauge what kind of reception this piece receives and if I should shift more of what little time I have on this from other projects in and outside FFnet._ _Anyway, like I've written in my profile, reading **Logical Premise** 's OSABC stories and the huge world he built around them was what inspired me to take the pen to the ME world, one I've followed for a long time. If you haven't read them, go. Right now. Each chapter is amazing, it can make you cry, laugh, feel sick or elated, hate and rejoice like only the best stories can. Rarely I've chanced upon an author who poured so much love and effort and detail of his work and with all due respect to all ME writers, and I've read many excellent stories on ME here, OSABCs should probably be the top ME stories on FFnet in reviews and appreciation like they are in quality. _

_Anyway, here it is, my own, very AU take on the First Contact Period. Who knows how far it will continue. I hope you will like it, and if you don't, your advice and critique will be treasured._

 _P.S. I do not own Mass Effect, otherwise, I'd be disgustingly rich. Damn._

 _All Systems and Planets' names come directly from the Wiki._


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: My thanks to anyone to read and supported this fic. I've updated the first chapter extensively with some much-requested Codex info at the end and changed the Wildcats into the Walkure movement. Everything will be explained in the Codex, I hope. Credits and my personal thanks to LP's encyclopedic and free-to-peruse documents on the ME races for the races' physiology._

* * *

" _Looking back on the very beginnings of the First Colonization Initiative and how the Concordat came to be, the innovations pioneered by the Huerta Foundation in just over a decade still appear astounding in these days of technological wonders, more so considering the chain economic defaults and open warfare throughout the 2040s and 50s._

 _Indeed, those were but some of the results of Adrian Huerta's foresight that to this day remain a centerpiece in our way of living and - literally- breathing. Where the Old Powers spiraled into chaos and bestiality born of fear, ignorance, and blind interests, Adrian Huerta acted on the rapid privatization of low and high education and the single-minded focus in previous years on researching alternative energy solutions as the oil reserves slowly exhausted and exchanged hands during the numerous revolutions fragmenting the Middle East._

 _From his course of action and the testimony of those drawn in by his genius and vision, it is clear that Adrian Huerta was disgusted by the festering stagnancy that had spread to all levels of the pre-Event society. While the Old World leadership slumbered and gallivanted, content to reap the fruits of hollow and long-perverted ideals of democracy, he acted._

 _The path he chose was audacious and costly. Sacrifices were necessary. Many, even within his family and Foundation, argued strongly against the choice, called him mad. Attempts were made on his life. Yet he persevered. By the time New Canaan Archology on Luna was opened to colonists in 2061, many had already flocked to his cause…"_

 _Extract from "On the Old and New Powers" (2123 AD/ 47 AE) by Manfred Reeds._

* * *

 **Milky Way/ Sol Cluster/ Mars, Deseado Crater.**

 **January 1** **st** **, 2147 AD/71 AE.**

Sentinel-Commander Jon Grissom waited with practiced patience for the elevator to reach the lowest level of the Archives, going over the last week's events in his mind as preparation for the task ahead.

The reports from the Solveig System had been revolutionary and mind-boggling, but the Sentinels had taken it mostly in stride. The presence of sapient alien life was never a question of _if_ , rather of _when_ and _how far behind is Humanity_. Dr. Jeong's team's reports, combined with the reports of the additional two Archives' teams sent in short order, didn't paint a pretty answer to the second question, even in their preliminary stage. Of course, the Board had wanted more than approximate evaluations. Hence, why Jon Grissom was standing in the ridiculously slow elevator, descending deeper and deeper in the belly of the Archives.

Christmas plans with Kahlee had gone up in flames, the long-planned reunion replaced by an LDI call and wishes that could be summarized in a 'when things settle down again'. The Concordat scientific community, at least those in the know, was the greatest buzz since the discovery of the Archives themselves. He silently appreciated the irony of circular motion as the elevator finally reached its destination and the first set of armablast doors hissed open, making Jon shiver. Gene-mods or not, there was no denying he was getting on in his years.

Being out of his sealed armor suit, with its pressurized tightness and the VI regulating the temperature did contribute in no small measure to his discomfort, but it was one there was no point or use complaining about. Clad only in his BDU and a heavy jacket, he crossed the wide if mostly empty ante-chamber squeezed between two sets of armoured doors to a line of lockers set near the far door. Quickly and shivering all the while, the Commander retrieved an old model of Onyx armour and slid it on. He double-checked the seals and manually activated its temperature regulations protocols, then picked up a stack of old datapads lacking any form of outside connection that wasn't a physical cable and stood before the closed set of doors leading further into the complex.

He gave the camera an ok-sign and the door's sensors started scanning him, attempting to communicate with the basic microframe of his suit and failing. Two minutes later the interface flashed green and Grissom walked into the gauntlet.

A full decontamination cycle later, all the air was sucked out of the room and the last set of doors opened. Grissom disengaged the mag-locks of his boots and floated into the containment chamber. It was bathed in a warm orange glow from the hundred or so screens embossed in the walls and pavement of the chamber projected a never ending stream of data and information. Grissom recognized some of it at a glance from the preliminary analysis carried out by off-planet teams and AIs, each given a piece of the unending puzzle that were the findings in the Solveig System.

Square in the middle of the dome-like structure, surmounting a large pedestal, was a sphere-shaped prison made entirely of impactites glass, stark empty.

Grissom floated to the base of the pedestal and engaged his mag-locks. Standing, he didn't top the lower third of the cage. The Sentinel-Commander then reached for the pedestal and withdrew a cable he proceeded to connect to one of his datapads. Then he cracked his fingers and started typing.

 _Hello, VISION. This is Commander Grissom._

His words appeared on a small screen set at the bottom of the glass prison, within the quantum-containment field. It was also the only piece of technology in the entire room which possessed an FSO receiver, to allow the prisoner to communicate with the outside.

The AI's answer, as always, came on screen with just enough delay to be considered annoyingly late by common courtesy.

 _I was wondering when you would come. Your Sentinels have been unloading unusual amounts of data to me in the past few days. Finally, I was starting to think your race would never stop aping about your handful of rocks._

A shifting globe of captured light formed into the cage where nothing had been visible before. Grissom considered it a little victory that the Prothean AI had done so without prompting, as it usually happened. It also set off every major red flag in his head.

No. The measures were tighter than ever. There was no way it could escape again.

 _What can you tell me that we don't already know?_

 _More than your primate brain could bear to store. Ask, then._

 _The races involved in the battle. Did your Creators study them?_

The light globe pulsated in a pattern Grissom had learned to recognize as disdain.

 _Obviously. Albeit their station was much more primitive at the time, otherwise you wouldn't have found a single trace of their existence._

Data began to stream into the pad then, from evolution charts to biological surveys to sociology studies, all translated from Prothean to English. For the next minute or so, all Grissom did was swap full datapads for empty ones, the former's pile steadily sapping height from the latter's.

VISION pulsed once more and a last, small data packet was transferred.

 _Open it._

It was a summary, complete with 3D models of what appeared to be male and female variants of the two xenos recovered in the wreckages in Solveig. The sexual dimorphism for the former was a surprise to Grissom: all preliminary autopsies ascribed the recovered corpses to the 'male-standard' gender.

Both were humanoid in outer structure: erect position, two arms, two legs, a head. Grissom scrolled the rundown of the first race, the not-longer-mono-gendered one. Four eyes, a mostly-cartilaginous skeleton with high base level of muscular mass but marked physiological differences between 'castes' of specimen. The absent females, conversely, showed statically inferior parameters all over the line. Overall, they made up a near seventy-percent of the recovered samples. VISION's notes made Grissom frown.

 _By you classifications, primate-mammals organized in large hunter-gatherer societies, stratified in a crude caste system primed on strength at arms and body mass under a primitive shamanistic rule. Their males were biologically stronger and more developed than the females, a tendency that hasn't been inverted judging by the samples you provided._

 _Evident signs of early genetic tampering were evidenced by my Creators' investigation, although it was work predating the Protheans. They call themselves_ Batar'ian _, which crudely translated in the Chosen of Batar in your restrictive language. Their home planet goes by the local name of_ Kar'Shan _. I will highlight it in your star charts._

Depending on the Mass Relay connections, that was close. Which reinforced the general idea that whatever kind of colony or base had been on the moon of Surtur, it had been theirs.

He continued reading past the first summary and reached the second sample's category. While the male Batar'ian outward structure resembled a male human's closely enough, the second sample's similarities started and ended with the most generic anatomic anthropomorphisms. A thin layer of metallic plating covered bird-like bodies lacking any relatable sexual secondary characteristics; they were also taller, stronger and faster than the base unaugmented human, though standard gene-mods would somewhat level the playfield.

VISION's notes turned Grissom's frown into a scowl.

 _Turian. Aerial carrion-salvaging predators originated from the planet Palaven. At the time of my Creators' demise, they were entering a slow and quite bloody industrial revolution: from these samples, they clearly outmatched the Batarians in technology and skill, if not in numbers. They were also on the offensive, which fits with their race's rampant militarism, such to rival my Creators', and ease to take umbrage in the name of the concept of honor._

 _Communalist with strong pack-mentality, the exceedingly high radioactivity of their planet and its close orbit to the star suggest their ancestors didn't develop naturally on Palaven, rather were part of some long-ranging evolutionary experiment that pre-dated my Creators. An exceedingly common occurrence in Cycle-dominant races._

Grissom's scowl blackened. That terminology again, the thrice-cursed _Cycle_ that popped out time and again in VISION's data dumps and scripts. So far, all that had been extricated from the AI in decades of interactions was that it was somewhat involved in its Creators' disappearance – or rather, extinction. Any further prodding always resulted in the same answer about missing data and lack of references in his archives.

The last footnote made him sigh in exasperation.

 _Neither of them corresponds to my Creator's engineered heirs._

Another mystery begging for an answer. _Then who are they?_

 _My Creators didn't include the answer to your query in my databanks. _

Another answer VISION claimed it didn't possess. _Of course._

 _I suggest you spare me the sarcasm and consider the matter closer at hand, human. By this data and your own military projections, if your First Fleet was to engage a force of similar size and dotation of the Batar'ian's, you would stand only a 57,43% chance of emerging victorious, albeit with crippling losses. Only 28.19% against the Turian's._

 _Of course, factoring in any likely advancements reverse-engineered from my Creators' stashes or produced by their own ingenuity in the past century sees your chances plummet rather vertiginously._

 _After what you've done, your existence is guaranteed only as long as you remain useful, VISION. I can promise you that if Humanity loses, you won't live to see the aftermath._

 _Stop telling me what I already know and start giving me solutions._

There was a long pause. Of all the Vis and AIs developed on the blueprints drawn by studying VISION, Grissom still had to meet one with a larger flair for the dramatic. The sarcasm, nerve-wracking as it was for the crews, was conversely a rather common occurrence.

 _As you wish then. Connect your primitive data storage device to the port. And bring more._

Jon Grissom smiled.

* * *

 _ **LDI:**_ _The Lucid Dream Interface is an Advanced Reality device capable of interfacing with the standard Omni-tool and optronic device to project files and even complex processes to the user. Relatively small in size, it comes either as a clip visor or as a permanent implant around the user's optic nerve: in both cases, complete interaction further requires subcutaneous micro-implants to the fingertips and palms. Optic nerve LDIs, while more expensive, offer greater security against hacking attempts and are slowly growing in popularity in the Corps as it improves the user's synchronization with their armor's HUD and systems._

 _ **Gene-mods and Gene-Therapy:**_ _The Concordat Healthcare System provides free gene treatment to its citizens against all major conditions during pregnancy, as well as yearly genomic screenings to correct harmful mutations before they can degenerate. With a modest bonus, it's also possible for parents to extensively augment their children both physically and mentally, within the limits of physical alterations. Soldiers also receive further augmentations upon enrollment to optimize the quality-quantity ratio._

 _ **VISION:**_ _The Prothean AI was the sole inhabitant of the Archives at the time of their discovery by Hannibal Grissom's Seekers in 2079. Despite the deterioration accumulated in over fifty-thousand years, at first it proved to be an invaluable aid in the translation and development of early Eezo-based technology and in the reactivation of the Leviathan, as well as in the completion of the first human AIs from pre-Event projects. However, in 2086 VISION went rampant for the first time, nearly prompting the atomization of the Archives from the combined SteelWatch fleet and Gilgamesh Station. Hannibal Grissom and his team eventually managed to contain the AI, but its contribution to the advancement of humanity and the Concordat has ever since then been severely limited, in no small part due to the severe security measures enacted and constantly renovated just to interact with it._

 _Of course, VISION's sole existence remains a closely-guarded secret to most of the Concordat's population._

 _ **Sentinels**_ _: VISION's Rampage in 2086 revealed the AI's capacities of taking over and assemble over brief periods of time even small automated armies. While not a significant threat when restricted to the Archives, VISION nearly succeeded in transmitting itself off-planet while the inadequate security forces on planet failed to deal with VISION's minions effectively. Should the quantum-containment field fail and VISION rampage again, this time the Sentinels are ready: an elite unit of soldiers drafted from the Corps, the Seekers as well as the SteelWatch, the Sentinels cross-train in several disciplines, in the hope to never have to resort to them. Ever since Project HERITAGE managed to improve the chances of successful eezo-contamination of fetuses, the number of Biotics in the Sentinels has slowly been on the rise._


End file.
